Hanger High
by CanonCannon
Summary: Annie Cresta is the new girl in town. From Australia, she's been moved to Florida with her family for her fathers new job, which means a new school. AU modern day Florida. Odesta, Everlark, Clato
1. Bizarre Mornings and Moron Brothers

**Hey! This is my first THG story! **

**I decided to do it centred around Finnick and Annie, but there is a lot of Katniss and Peeta and some other couples.**

**It's in Annie's POV - and I've decided to make her not-crazy - but that may change depending on reviews and what I feel like.**

**If you're not certain, the Hanger was the place where they kept weapons and Hovercrafts in District 13. I was going to use Panem High but some other authors have used that and I wanted to be original.**

**Without further ado...**

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So far, this morning has been pretty bizarre, maybe because I woke up before my alarm – which never happens – and also because my skin is improbably clear.

My skin has always been a bit iffy – if you know what I mean. Whilst I haven't had acne, my skin certainly hasn't been free of blemishes, but after me and my family went to Hawaii for the summer, the sun had really helped, alongside a kit consisting of creams, exfoliating cleansers and face masks.

I reluctantly get out of bed and scoop up my dressing gown from its crumpled state on my bedroom floor and pad along the corridor to our bathroom…only to find it is already taken by my idiot of a brother – Will.

People seem to think I dislike him, for some unknown reason, but in truth, I hate him.

I mean, I'm sorry but I don't know what I've done to offend you, God, but my brother, really? In all seriousness though, he is an arrogant, irritating, head-stuck-up-his-arse, good for nothing asshole.

He's a couple of years older than me, and thinks he is my body guard or something, and not even in a nice, protective way. Some might think its sweet, but he doesn't even give me space to breathe half the time.

So I proceed to bang loudly on the bathroom door.

"GET OUT, LOSER!" I yell, stopping my knocking only to regain conciseness in my hand.

"What is it your time of month or something?" He retorts, and I can almost hear his smug smile through the door. Although, despite his pain-in-the-arse-ness, he does acknowledge the fact I need to shower and shuts off the water. A few minutes later, he opens the door, letting out what seems to be a cloud of steam, beaming at me.

"Why hello little sister, what a fine day it is!" I just grimace at him and slip past him into the bathroom, quickly slamming the door and bolting it shut.

Our bathroom is nice. For starters it's huge (so huge I'm annoyed my parents didn't convert it into two _separate_ bathrooms) but it's been tiled really attractively so I'll forgive them eventually. It's mainly white which gives it an airy feel – which makes up for the fact there is no window.

There is an old Victorian bath in the centre of the room that's amazing for bubble baths, two sinks next to each other with their respective mirrors and shelving units.

Will and I actually have separate sections of the wet room. Since there are two shower heads and it's a fairly big wet room, there's enough space for all our stuff in different cubbies that seem to have been carved out of the wall.

I wash and condition my hair, making sure to rid it of knots and tangles before going through my normal morning routine: body wash, shave armpits and legs, moisturise, dry off, brush my teeth, pluck any unwanted eyebrow hair and put my hair up in a towel.

I then pad back to my room where I throw on the outfit I had planned the night before.

In Australia, where I spent most of my childhood, I went to schools where it was compulsory to wear uniform, but my Dad had just got promoted – he's really high up in the fishing industry and shit – and for that we had to relocate our whole family to Florida or more precisely, Mexico Beach.

So anyway, I'm now a sophomore at Hanger High, and my brother is a senior, but hopefully we won't cross paths…at all.

The weather is blisteringly hot, so I pull on some high waist shorts – glad I shaved – and a cropped t-shirt that was navy and had the Australian flag on it.

I blow dry my hair and scoop it up into a messy bun – i.e. the hairstyle that looks like it took ten seconds whilst in reality it took ten minutes to make it look that way – and do my makeup.

While I'm not that girl who slathers herself in makeup (and there's always that girl don't try to deny it) I do want to look nice and presentable on my first day of school. I apply some concealer under my eyes and use a small brush to blend it – because even though I haven't a clue what I'm doing, it looks professional – and use a larger brush to apply a thin layer of foundation, followed by some contouring with bronzer, blush, covered in a light powder, mascara and a pale pink lipstick, not far off my natural colour.

When I'm satisfied with my face and body I step into some white converse that I've had for years and check my bag is full with all the right stuff, before slipping my phone in my pocket and skipping off downstairs to our kitchen.

The kitchen is just like the rest of our house – big and bright, which I suppose isn't a bad thing, but it's a bit modern for me – you know? Too many clean edges and sharp finishes and smooth surfaces and white because it's just so blinding and with all the secret compartments I cannot find a single thing! Several times I've gone to get a spoon and returned with a whisk, or been told to fetch a chopping board and finding only a blender. But at the end of the day it has food and that's all that matters to me.

I grab an apple from the fruit bowl and my sunglasses, keys and purse from the table and try to make my way out of the house before my parents could catch me.

"Where do you think you're going without any breakfast, young lady?" My _dear_ mother called from the living room – which unfortunately for me was connected to the kitchen.

My Mum was unemployed, so she felt that she should be a stay-at-home Mum for Will and me, which is ten years too late in all honesty. She cooks, she cleans, watches awful soap operas and sitcoms and still despite her pledge to be a Home-Mum cannot to save her life empty the damn dishwasher.

"Ugh, Mum, an apple is breakfast," I reply, opening the door to escape her wrath.

"And you can't leave without a jumper, sweetie!" I roll my eyes. "What if it gets cold?"

My Mum is from England, so she's used to its unpredictable weather. Well, so are my brother and I, but we only lived there until I was six and he was 8, whereas my Mum had lived there for most of her life.

"It's 50 degrees out there, I doubt I'm going to need a jumper."

But in spite of this, I still let her stuff a hoodie and cereal bar into my bag before I leave. I decided last night not to get the school bus, but to cycle in. Why not? It's a quiet route and it will probably get me to school quicker than the forever stopping bus.

I dump my bag into the basket on the front of my bike and leave with my mother shouting _Call me!_ From the kitchen window.

I set off along the lane, shadowed by large palm trees and sprinkled in sand, letting the salty smell of the sea fill my nostrils. With the wind in my hair and the salt up my nose, I ride happily into the School's bike shed, where I promptly lock up my bike.

I pass people lounging around in groups on the fields outside the school, and get out of the sun and outside the Principals office, where apparently, someone will take me to homeroom.

I've already had my tour a couple of weeks ago, but I've almost definitely forgotten where all my classes are, so my tour guide better be something.

Term started a few weeks ago, but because of my family's "situation", I've only been able to start school today, in the middle of term, when everyone has already made friends and gotten into friendship groups. So thanks family.

The corridor smells musty even though I just saw the cleaner pass through, and the hard plastic of the chair I'm sitting in makes it impossible for me to get comfortable.

I sigh and pull out my phone to check my reflection. I'm not vain, but I'm bored and it kills time. Not to mention the fact I'm a loner and have no notifications apart from a text from my Mum saying she's going to sunbathe in the garden – because I really needed to know that.

I look up when I hear footsteps approaching, the sound of the persons walking loud in the hall.

The boy was stocky and broad shouldered, with blonde hair in curls across his forehead, and big blue eyes that reminded me of the sea back home. He smiled and I smiled back because it was just so full of genuine kindness and it was enough to make my day suck less.

He comes to a stop a holds a piece of paper up, seemingly comparing me to the torn piece of page.

"You're this girl?" He asked, a smirk evident on his face. He shows me the photo and I snatch it from his grasp.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that," I say, blushing.

It was a picture of me from last year. My hair was frizzy – I got a comb stuck in it the morning before – my skin was awful and oily and I had big, chunky braces. Thankfully my braces came off before we moved, and I switched shampoos which had a dramatic – and surprising – effect on my hair, that is now sleek and shiny.

"My name is Peeta Mellark," The now named boy said, extending his hand to greet me. I smiled and shook his hand.

"And I'm Annie Cresta."

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	2. Lamppost Encounters

**Thank you to** Odestalovebaby** for being awesome and reviewing so quickly, and to those of you who read it!**

**This chapter is where Finnick is introduced, along with some other characters. **

**I know it's not really romantic but I want it to be gradual because I don't know it just seems more real to me.**

**Without further ado...**

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"So this is your locker," Peeta said, coming to a halt before what I presumed was my locker. It was painted blue and the paint was peeling but it seemed a good size. "And your code is…"

He trailed off, looking at another piece of paper and biting his lip. I saw the code scribbled down from peering over his shoulder and opened my locker.

It was spacious enough, with a shelf at the top and a couple of inside hooks for jackets and bags and such stuff.

"You can decorate it however you like on the inside, with mirrors and stickers, or rotas and timetables, go crazy, just as long as you don't do anything to the outside, you can pretty much do anything." Peeta finished with a smile like always.

"Nice," I say in approval, looking inside the locker again.

"Who's this?" A female's voice asks. I see that a girl, around our age, has joined Peeta and myself. She was tall, with olive skin and black hair, pulled back in an elaborate French plait that was draped elegantly across her shoulder. She wore a pair of black trousers and a white top with a pretty gold bird on underneath a brown leather jacket. She seemed very beautiful, but her grey eyes made me feel insecure, the grey dark like storm clouds.

"Katniss, this is Annie, Annie, this is Katniss." I hold my hand out for her to shake, but she looks past it and offers a hostile smile. I frown, but she didn't notice as she had looked back to Peeta.

"I'll see you in homeroom, okay?"

"Yeah sure," He said, kissing her lightly on the cheek before she stalked off, her eyes narrowing as they met mine.

"Sorry about her," Peeta said, making me snap my head back around to face him. "She finds it hard to trust people."

"No, it's fine." I say, almost to myself more than to Peeta. I shut my locker and smile. "Shall we go?"

"Right away, Miss Cresta." I roll my eyes and follow him through the halls. He gets me chatting about Australia and my life there, I even told him a bit about my life in England, which is why I speak like someone from Oxford, which is where I lived till I was six.

After he looked over my timetable, it was clear we had most of our lessons together, including homeroom, which was good I suppose.

The first thing I noticed when we turned down into another hall was that it was incredibly loud and extraordinarily busy. People were larking around, which was allowed by the looks of things, as teachers passed through without complaint.

Apart from one, that is.

"Stop! Put that poor boy down!" A high pitched shriek snapped. A bunch of rough looking seniors put down a weedy freshman who could've passed as a twelve year old, before picking on another. "What did I just say?"

"That's Ms Trinket," Peeta shouted.

"Trinket?" I scoff, expecting Peeta to make a joke about how it sounds like she's a high end stripper or something, but he just leads me through the crowd of people – looking like a mix of all years – to a room I assume is homeroom.

Sure enough when we make it inside alive (barely), Katniss is sitting at the back with some other girls. Peeta starts walking and I follow him, not wanting to look like a complete loner.

He sits down at a desk next to Katniss and she smiles warmly at him. Whilst she's an ice queen to me, it's nice to see someone can melt away her cold exterior.

"Hi!" A perky blonde says. She's sitting in front of Katniss by a window, and beaming brightly at me. Her honey blonde hair is down and waving prettily, with her big hazel eyes sparkling. "I'm Madge, you must be Annie!"

"Yeah," I say awkwardly. She moves her bag off the desk next to her and looks at me expectantly.

"I don't bite," She giggles and I smile back, because anyone who makes an effort to be nice to someone is a person I like. I sit down next to her and slip my bag off my shoulder and under the desk. "So you're from Aus. then?"

"Lived in Cairns for ten years," I reply. "Until I was six we lived in Oxfordshire in England."

"Oh," She answers, still beaming. "That's why you don't sound like you're from down under!" I nod and smile back.

A boy enters the room and Madge quickly goes beet-red at the sight of him. He was tall, taller than Peeta and Katniss, with straight black hair cut short with tanned skin and eyes not dissimilar to those of Katniss. His face is reasonably attractive, so I can see why Madge likes him, but his eyes are too close together in my opinion, but don't worry, I'm not so shallow to discount him for that.

"That's Gale," She swooned, looking at the dark haired boy with grey eyes and olive skin. "He's Katniss' cousin, and so dreamy!" She giggles and smiles at him.

"Well they certainly look alike," I observe. Watching as Gale takes a seat at the back of the classroom near Peeta. They engage in conversation and his eyes flicker in my direction. He smiles and holds up a hand in greeting. I smile back at him.

"That's what everyone says," Katniss chips in. "Are Dads are twin brothers, so it helps I guess."

I look back around as I hear the door creak open and I must say I think my heart skipped a beat.

A boy, well more like a man, swaggers in. From a first glance he looks like a Greek God. Bronze skin, golden hair, a face that could make Angels jealous and a smirk that looks like it could break hearts. It probably has though. But it's his eyes that make my breath hitch. Alive, dancing and green like emeralds and the Lord knows I'm a sucker for guys with pretty eyes.

"Who's that?" I ask Madge.

She laughs and nudges me playfully, wiggling her eyebrows. I roll my eyes.

"Only Finnick Odair, object of half the girls affection in our entire school!" Katniss squeals, mocking Madge who scowls.

"I was going to say," Madge started, glaring at her friend. "That he is one of our close friends and despite his reputation is a lovely person."

"I'm touched, Madge, really." I turn my head around so fast my neck clicked, but Finnick was standing beside my table, so it wasn't all for nothing. Madge blushed slightly. I don't blame her. "Hi, I'm Finnick," He held out his hand for me to shake.

"Annie," I reply, shaking his hand. He smiled showing adorable dimples, so I smiled back, showing off my pearly whites.

"Well Annie, it's an honour to meet your acquaintance." He winks at me and I roll my eyes, which only makes him chuckle.

"Annie," Madge taps my repeatedly on my shoulder to get my attention.

"Madge," I say, mimicking her tone and wide eyes, looking her in the face. She giggles – again – and introduces Johanna, Clove and Finch.

Johanna was quite intimidating, with a long, pointed face and smirk to rival that of Finnick's. She had pale skin that contrasted fantastically with her black hair that was cut short in a way that it looked like a perfect combination of soft and spikey, with some red streaks adding a tone of badass to her look. Her pale eyes were outlined in smoky black tenors and she was dressed in pretty badass clothes to add to her aura of don't-mess-with-me.

Clove was clearly closest to Johanna, and had dark brown hair that was pulled back out of her face in a ponytail. She had a milky complexion, with her face dotted with freckles, reminding me of paint splatters – in the nicest way of course. She had big brown eyes that looked like chocolate, although they didn't seem to provide any comfort to me at all, unlike chocolate. She pursed her lips together and greeted me with a reserved smile.

But Finch was much more inviting. She was, like Johanna and Clove, very pale, but her hair was a light ginger, and she had pretty blue eyes that seemed to be swirling like waves. I could tell she was very intelligent, and my suspicions were confirmed when she started rambling on about books and lessons. She smiled a lot like Madge and I could tell they were probably best friends, and felt bad about sitting in what must normally be Finch's seat.

Straight after homeroom we had Art, which was alright I suppose. I sat next to Gale, which Madge was jealous about, and he seemed nice enough, and even called me cute a one point. But I could tell that it wasn't in-that-way, because it was when I sneezed, and I often sound like a small animal when I sneeze, which most people remark as cute.

We were both drawing an apple which was boring as hell, and we kept making sarcastic comments about Art. Mainly because of the teacher.

It was Ms Trinket with our luck, and she was extravagant to say the least. Her hair seemed to be died a coral-pink colour and her makeup was very out-there. Not to mention the fact she clearly has OCD and snaps at everyone about manners and not to draw on her tables as _that is Mahogany!_

"You lucky bitch," Madge said in an undertone as we left Art to go to PE. "I saw Gale first, are we clear on that?"

"Yeah sure, whatever," I say, distracted by all the colourful display boards covered in photos of school trip and camps. Out of the corner of my eye I see her roll her eyes and sigh, which makes me grin. I've only known her an hour and I'm already rubbing off on her.

As Madge leads me to the changing rooms, I notice a gaggle of girls giggling and stalking – okay that was an exaggeration – Finnick, Gale and Peeta.

Katniss noticed this too, and she grabs me by the upper arm and drags me over to the boys. She promptly kisses Peeta and laces her fingers through his, sending death glares to the group of girls. I stood there unsure of what to do, but Gale and Finnick started up a conversation with me, which was a life saver, so I thank them.

"Who are those girls?" I say to Katniss as we get changed into our kit – white shirt and black shorts – in a changing room that smelt like old socks and deodorant, which believe you me was not a nice smell.

"Glimmer and her posse," Katniss replies bitterly. "They think that they can have any guy they want because they look like cheap prostitutes." I snort back laughter – which can't've been the most attractive sound, but despite this Katniss laughs.

We finish changing and head out to the field, where our coach, who insisted I call her Atala, was waiting.

She was of African American descent, and had black hair pulled back into a sleek pony. She wasn't unattractive, but her coffee coloured eyes seemed too big for her head, which gave the impression there was fish in her family tree somewhere.

She set us off to do seven laps of the 400m track – that's 2.8 km – as a warm up! What does she think we are? An army of wonder women? Ugh, well I'm not too bad at cross country so I get on with it with only minor grumbling. Madge is clearly not a good long distance runner, as she accidentally on purpose tripped over and hurt her ankle, but Clove and Johanna are pretty good, and we three are in the front with an Indian girl from Glimmer's group. I think her name is Pavarti, but I'm not certain.

On the last lap, where Johanna has gone bright red in the face, I notice Finnick and Gale watching from where they're doing Javelin. I feel pressured now, and Clove's breathing has gotten heavier, and I know she's planning on going in for the sprint for the last 100m. It's around 200m now, and I can just about make it, so wishing on those lucky stars, I start sprinting.

I get ahead of our group and am covering ground quicker now, but too soon I hear Clove's ragged breaths close behind and try to pick up the pace. I can taste blood in my mouth and can hear my heart beating in my ears as I cross the finish line milliseconds before Clove.

"Impressive, Cresta," Atala says warmly, handing me a water bottle.

"I can second that," Clove breathes, her hands on her head as she tries to control her breathing. "You should think about joining the track team."

"I will," I said, clutching my side.

"Woah, Annie!" Madge said, limping over. I only hope Atala didn't notice her limp had somehow transferred from her right leg to her left. "You're great!"

As more people congratulate me and I thank them profusely, I start walking back over to the changing rooms. In all honesty I was a bit dehydrated and my head was spinning, which couldn't've been a good sign. Actually I was so busy concentrating on how dehydrated and off centred I was, I didn't even notice the lamppost becoming closer and closer.

I actually didn't realise how close it was, until I walked straight into it.

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	3. Oh My Giddy Aunt!

**Hi! Sorry it took a while to update, but here's the next chapter! This is in Finnick's POV, and contains more Odesta romance! **

**Enjoy!**

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I'll admit it, when I first saw a picture of the new girl, I wasn't overwhelmed by her looks.

She had a pretty oval face, but it was seemingly oily, and covered in blemishes and spots, although her hair and braces made that seem like a minor problem. Braces are good in the long run, I know that, but they aren't the most attractive things either. Worse still, her frizzy hair made it look like she'd been dragged through a hedge backwards, several times. It stuck out of her head like a toilet brush and honestly didn't do anything for her.

So naturally, when I walked into homeroom, I hadn't been properly prepared for how stunning the Australian was.

I couldn't see into detail, but she had dark, shiny brown hair that had been styled in a casual up-do, a skin tone that was tanned, but gave the impression she would normally be quite pale, and though I couldn't see the exact colour of her eyes, they were alive and bright and full of a spark I hadn't seen before, that was both exciting and unnerving.

She smiled at me, and it was clear she had gotten her braces removed, and it worked wonders, as her bright smile was truly beautiful and even though it was slightly crooked and too-big for her face it still made it harder for me to breathe. Not that it would be a problem anyway, it was a pleasant surprise to see her skin had cleared up perfectly, and her hair was tamed and slick and shimmery.

After getting over the shock of how break taking it was, and experiencing having my breath taken away, I reached my usual crowd that now had everyone there plus new girl.

Peeta, Gale and I have been friends since kindergarten, and I honestly can't remember them not being there. I mean, there have been times when they haven't been there I'm sure, but they were evidently not worth remembering, apart from some fishing trips with Mags.

Mags is literally my family. I'm not saying literally like the twelve year old say nowadays that is completely not literal.

My parents died when I was only a baby. My mother died in childbirth, and my Dad was killed in action when he was fighting for the U.S.A, so Mags, who is a friend of my Dads, took me in and raised me, like the son she never had.

She's around the same generation as my grandmother, and although she had a stroke a couple of years back which means she can only communicate through a series of garbled nonsense and strange noises (that only Peeta and I can understand) – but aside from that she's as fit as a fiddle.

Peeta sits with his arm slung around Katniss's shoulders, as he conducts a conversation with Gale, who is desperately trying to snatch Johanna's attention and get Peeta to notice how uninterested he is in the new bread Peeta helped make down at his father's bakery. As I near, he looks up hopefully, as if I was going to stop Peeta, but I just greeted them and dumped my bag, before going to introduce myself to the new girl.

"…despite his reputation is a lovely person!" Madge said half to Annie half to Katniss, as Katniss had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing.

"I'm touched, Madge, really," I say, putting a hand on my heart and looking at her with big eyes. Which was when I noticed _her_ eyes.

Shaped like wide almonds, her irises were the most dangerous colour of green I'd ever seen. It reminded me of the green of a stormy sea, the kind that foams at the edges and crashes mercilessly onto the shore. Framed with long, dark lashes – and in spite of the dangerous green colour – they looked so innocent and earnest.

"Hi, I'm Finnick," I said, stretching my hand out to her, hoping desperately I didn't sound too nervous. She took it and smiled again, her nose crinkling slightly, making me notice her freckles.

"Annie," Annie greets, her voice matter-of-fact and very to the point, without being too strict or firm. I also noticed that her voice did not sound very Australian, more English, but it could've just been her upbringing or something.

"Well Annie, it's an honour to meet your acquaintance," And I spared her a cheeky wink, which only made her smile widen and her eyes to roll playfully – making me laugh. I considered extending my welcome, but Madge viciously tapped Annie on the shoulder, and so she turned to the blonde, leaving me standing there quite awkwardly. Gale smirked at me and I scowled back at him, taking my usual seat between him and Peeta.

And now I'm sitting by her bedside in the nurse's room.

Her dark hair had for the most part fallen out of her bun, splayed out around her head like a halo, and it stood out boldly against the white sheets.

After she so gracefully walked into a lamppost and knocked herself out – she was most probably dehydrated from her fantastic run – I volunteered myself as tribute to carry her to the nurse. Annie was as light as she looked, and I noticed how defined her collarbone and legs were, and wondered if she was just naturally thin or it was something perhaps more serious.

But the nurse said she was going to be okay, and would come round within the hour. Her statement certainly didn't make me feel any better, as a large red welt stuck out of her head like Rudolph's nose.

It didn't spoil her good looks though, which were actually more angelic when she was sleeping, although nothing beats her wicked smile and brilliant eyes.

_What am I thinking?_ I think to myself as I run my fingertips over her soft, supple hand, admiring her pale blue nail polish. _I've just met the girl and I'm already calling her angelic!_

I'll just to accept she's most likely only going to be my friend, and I am totally okay with that as long as her personality isn't as fascinating as her looks, because if that's the case, I'm in for a complicated next few years.

Madge, Gale and I are with her, seeing as we all have a free period. The others are all in Math, but we three are in different classes – as we are "of a higher ability" then our friends – and our lessons are at different times.

Madge and Gale are talking in hushed whispers, which is probably making Madge's life, and I can't help but feel sorry for Gale.

He's in the complicated situation of liking two girls, and having both those girls like him back. Him and Johanna have history, they've been on and off since Middle School, and I think the reason behind it is the fact they are both so alike that they get easily pissed off and angry and jealous and it's not healthy, but they still both harbour left over feelings for each other.

Madge, on the other hand, is Gale's polar opposite. Bubbly and girly and sweet she is constantly gossiping and giggling and generally spreading nice-ness, while Gale is quite sullen and moody and easy to tick off, but she does make him less grumpy and he makes her less gossipy so I'd say they're quite good for each other. Whether they'd make a good couple or not, is an entirely different question.

Annie's eyelids flicker open and she looks around in panic, wondering where the hell she is. As she begins to register her surroundings, her expression turns to embarrassment and she flops back down onto the bed with her hands covering her face.

"Oh my giddy aunt," She whispers in shock. "I just walked into a freaking _lamppost_!"

I chuckle.

"With a big old bump to prove it as well," I whisper back. She removes her hands from her face and they shoot upwards to feel the swelling lump.

"Oh sweet Panem this can't have happened on my first day!"

"Annie it's not too bad," Madge says, strolling over and brushing some hair from her face. "Nurse said it'll go down in a few days, _and_ she even supplied this cream to try and reduce the redness!" She held out a brown jar, unscrewed the off-putting burgundy lid, and revealed a thick, off-yellow paste that smelt of vinegar mixed with dirt.

She looked at me and grimaced.

Laughing, I took her hand and squeezed it lightly, realising no girl has ever had this kind of effect on me before, let alone that in a space of three hours.

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**Thanks for reading! Please review, and remember, a happy author writes quicker! And I love hearing from you guys, so thanks a million to those of you who reviewed, followed and favourite! It means the world to me!**


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